The Talk
by wingsgirl1313
Summary: In the E shaped house, Jeb had some parenting duties to do.  Among which is telling his children, aka, the young flock about the birds and the bees.
1. Max

**A/N: This is my first multi-chapter story that's not a songfic! Aren't you proud of me! I give all the credit for the idea to EdwardAddict. Just ask and she isn't nearly as mean as she seems in all those scary A/N's. Joking! Kinda… R&R people!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. I don't own this idea. Crap.**

**Dedication: I dedicate this story to EdwardAddict. Thanks for letting me play with your idea!**

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This was a day that would change Max, Fang, and Iggy forever. Strangely enough, it started out pretty normally. Let me tell you the tale of this eventful day.

Max's eleventh birthday was tomorrow. She was so excited. This was her first birthday out of the school. She and Fang were doing what she liked best. Sparring.

"Max, sweetheart," Jeb called, sticking his head out the door of the E-shaped house, "I need to talk to you for a little bit."

"Sure, Jeb," Max yelled back and turned away from Fang to walk back to their home. Fang had been losing the fight, and was very ashamed of it. He couldn't lose to a girl! He did what only a very desperate person would do. Fang took a cheap shot at his best friend. He felt a little better about himself until--

"Fang, you loser!" Max spun on her heel with a murderous look on her face.

"Uh-oh."

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Jeb was pacing in the kitchen. He couldn't believe he had to talk to his baby girl about _that_.

"FANG, YOU LOSER!" Jeb heard from outside.

"That's not good," he muttered to himself. Jeb rushed outside to see Max straddling Fang. 'Oh no!' he thought. 'I'm too late!' But the ex-whitecoat relaxed when he saw what Max was doing to Fang. She was simply trying to beat his face. Nothing to worry about.

Well, at least not at their house.

"Max, I have something very important to talk to you about," Jeb began nervously a few minutes later. Jeb had pulled Max off Fang, earning a split lip in the process, and was now sitting with her in the kitchen.

"Okay, Jeb," Max said smiling, "shoot."

"Well you are getting older now-"

"I know! I'm going to be eleven tomorrow!" the "almost eleven-year-old" shouted.

"You're not making this any easier, sweetheart," Jeb told her through clenched teeth.

"Sorry," Max muttered. She mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key. Jeb almost smiled. She was so young. So naïve.

"As I said, you're getting older now...and getting to the point where your body is changing..." Jeb trailed off. He couldn't do it. He was a lousy father.

"Oh," said Max. "You mean, like, getting taller." Her eyes were wide and innocent.

"Well, that's part of it. You'll...um...begin, er...developing..."

"Developing what?"

"You'lldevelopbreastsandbegintogetstrangefeelingsfortheoppositesex!" Jeb panted, managing to get it all out in one breath.

"Um, sorry, I didn't quite catch that..." Was this girl trying to kill him?

"You'll develop, um, breasts, and...er...begin to get, um, feelings for the opposite" he paused, "gender…" What was wrong with him? He was Jeb, the all-mighty whitecoat! Surely he could handle one mutant preteen-aged girl!

"What kind of feelings? Like a crush?"

Or maybe not. "Well, it starts with a crush. When a man and a woman love each other..."

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Well, I shall save you from the "birds and the bees." I'm sure it was traumatic enough the first time you heard it. Just imagine two hours of nervous, stumbling Jeb, and a very grossed out Max.

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"...and that is what men and women do when they love each other and are _married_." Jeb finally completed. He hoped the stress on married wasn't missed. Max just sat on the stool at the counter island and stared straight ahead.

"Max, sweetheart, wake up," he said, waving a hand in front of her glassy eyes. Max didn't blink. Jeb sighed and began to make hot chocolate. If anything could wake her up it was this. He was right. Max seemed to come to life when the steaming mug was placed before her.

"What, no marshmallows?" she asked, only half joking. He smiled and plopped three marshmallows into her drink.

"I'm gonna go watch TV, okay?" Max asked. Jeb nodded, and watched her stumble out of the room. The man smiled. This wasn't so hard.

Max turned back around, "Jeb, one question. Would I have an egg or a baby?"

Crap.


	2. Iggy

A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short. Iggy was harder to write than Max.

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Iggy and the Gasman were up to no good. Jeb could tell that from listening (cough) eavesdropping outside the bathroom door.

"No, Gazzy, the _blue_ wire!"

Jeb could have fainted right then and there. Only Iggy would teach a _three-year-old_ how to build a bomb. Jeb took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Iggy, I need to talk to you! It's important!"

"Not now, Jeb. I'm, er, doing my business!" Iggy's voice sounded strained as he scrambled for the right words.

So that's why they were building their bomb in the bathroom. So they had a good excuse in case they were caught. But their excuse was not good enough. Jeb didn't get a PhD for nothing.

"Iggy, there's smoke coming out from under the door! You're building a bomb, and you know that I know!"

"Crap!" Jeb heard a small voice yell.

"Gazzy! I did not teach you that word!"

"Crap!"

"I didn't teach it to you, either, Iggy!"

Where did these kids learn their language? Jeb had thought he was careful around the children. Especially, the younger ones.

"Fine, Jeb. I'll be out in a minute," Iggy called, defeated, after a long pause.

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Iggy made his way to the sofa where he heard Jeb's breathing. "Yeah, Jeb? What did you need to talk about?" asked Iggy, turning his face to where he knew Jeb was.

"Well, Iggy, you're getting older now. And as you get older, your body will begin changing. Your voice will change and...well..."

Iggy frowned. He wanted to touch Jeb's face to see if he was sweating as much as he thought.

"Jeb, you may not know this, but I'm blind. If you don't talk, then I don't have any reason to be here. It's not like I can stare at your beautiful face or anything." Iggy said after a very awkward moment of silence.

Jeb's eyes widened. Where had Iggy learned how to use sarcasm?

"Well, as you get older..."

"You said that already." Iggy said impatiently. He wanted to know what was so darn important.

"Ig..." The ex-whitecoat's voice trailed of threateningly.

"Sorry."

Jeb took a deep breath. It had taken him an hour to calm down after Max's talk. Now Iggy was making him anxious again!

"Well, you'll begin to get...well, desires for the opposite s--er, gender. You'll want to...oh for the love of God! YOU'LL WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH GIRLS! THERE! I SAID IT!"

Max had stuck her head into the den to ask if Jeb needed anything. Recognizing where the conversation was going, however, she scurried away as fast as her little avian-hybrid legs would carry her. Iggy heard Max running away even over Jeb's yelling. Iggy smiled inwardly; this was going to be good.

"So tell me more about this 'sex' of which you speak."

The next sound Iggy heard was Jeb's head hitting the armrest of the couch.

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Another traumatizing two hours.

And only one preteen bird kid to go.

Things might just be looking up.

"So, Jeb," Iggy asked casually, "Have _you _ever had sex?"

Or not.


	3. Fang

**A/N: Welcome to the third chapter of The Talk. Thank you all for reviewing! This is the most popular story I've ever written! Please, keep it up! I love you all!**

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Fang stood in front of his bathroom mirror, brooding. Gingerly, he touched his new black eye. Half of him wanted revenge. The other half, his conscience he assumed, told him that he deserved it.

"Fang!" he heard Iggy shouting and pounding on the door. "I need to finish my... thing!"

"Oh, the bomb you've been working on for the past three days? Jeb took it. "Fang replied. This was a lie and Fang very well knew it. The incomplete tangle of wires and various explosives were well hidden behind a stack of toilet paper in the cabinet under the sink. But Iggy didn't have to know that.

"What! He couldn't have!" Iggy sounded so dismayed. This was fun. Fang stepped out of the washroom quietly. So quietly, in fact, that the blind bird boy did not even notice his passage. Or so he thought.

"Oh, and Fang," Iggy turned and fixed his sightless eyes on his best friend, "Word to the wise, when Jeb says he needs to talk to you, run. "Iggy then made his way to his bedroom, humming softly to himself. Fang gulped. There was no way this could be good.

"Fang, where are you?" Jeb's voice called through the house. If he hadn't known any better, he could have sworn he heard bursts of laughter from Max's and Iggy's rooms. Oh boy.

"There you are," Jeb panted. Spinning on his heel, Fang took in the appearance of a _very_ dishevelled man. "I really need to talk to you."

Fang took Iggy's advice.

He ran.

"Fang! Get back here! Don't you dare run from me!" Fang risked a look behind him. Jeb's face had turned a rather interesting shade of red. Jeb walked around the house uselessly shouting half-heartedly.

Meanwhile, Fang hid. Panting, he leaned against the inside of a door.

"You know, Iggy was exaggerating. You didn't have to run like that," Max told him. Fang looked about himself dazedly for a moment or two before realizing that he was in Max's bedroom. Max watched him sitting cross-legged on her bed. In her lap was a notebook.

"What's in there?' Fang asked her. Max blushed furiously. Fang raised his eyebrows in total shock. Max never got embarrassed!

"Nothing," Max said quickly while slamming it shut. Fang was just about to lunge for it when Jeb knocked on the door. Instead of lunging at the notebook, he lunged under Max's bed. He heard Max sigh and grant Jeb permission to enter.

"Max, sweetheart, do you know where Fang is?" Jeb asked her in a father-like fashion.

"No, I'm sorry, Jeb," she said regretfully while pointing frantically at the bed. Jeb nodded to show his understanding. "Well, Jeb, I'm gonna go play with Angel," Max said casually. Fang had time to think a not-very-nice word before he felt Jeb's large hands clasp around his ankles.

A few minutes later, Jeb was bestowing adult information on the boy Fang. Jeb thought he saw Fang's eyelid twitch once or twice. He must have imagined it because Fang never, ever showed emotion. Until he began to explain just how sexual intercourse happens, that is. Fang fainted. Jeb sighed. This was gonna be a long day...

"You okay now, Fang? Do you understand everything?" Jeb asked gently. Fang just stared at him and blinked once in shock. Jeb took that as a yes and, thanks to experience, quickly turned away before Fang had the chance to ask him a question.

"Hey, Jeb?" Apparently not fast enough. "I read something on the internet..."

This couldn't be good.

"What does (Fang's incredibly vulgar "internet term") mean?

"WHAT?"


	4. Epilogue

**Max's POV -- The Present**

The Flock and I had set up camp. The monthly curse was upon me, and my mood was black. I frowned as I watched Nudge carry off a backpack full of empty water bottles. She was so grown. She was eleven now. Oh, God, she was eleven.

"Fang, Iggy, confrence _now_," I barked. They stared at me like I was mad. I gestured as subtly as I could--although that was probably lost on Iggy. "Today, please," I hissed. We moved into a clump of trees away from the makeshift campsite. It wasn't going to be easy convinsing those two.

"Well, as the oldest, we have certain responsiblilities over the rest of the Flock," I began. I took a deep breath. "Do you two remember the day before my eleventh birth--"

"I thought we agreed never to speak of that day again," Iggy cut in, obviously shocked that I had broken the sacred vow we made all those years ago as frightened children. Even Fang's eyes were wide. But the wide eyes suddenly narrowed.

"Oh no, you don't mean..." Fang's words trailed off. We all knew what he left unsaid, however.

"Well Nudge is older than we were when _that_ happened, and it only stands to reason that in a few years the Gasman and Angel will need their Talks as well." I was rambling, but I didn't care. I was right, and I could see it in the boy's faces that they knew it.

"Have fun!" the two said as one, turning to walk away. I reached out and grabbed the backs of their jackets. I spun them around and had to laugh at their panicked expressions.

"Oh no," I laughed. "You don't get off that easy!"

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**A/N: I'd like to thank you all for reading and reviewing my story. This story had 68 reviews as of 1:09 PM on January 7th. That's more reviews than I ever imagined this story would get. Every review made me happy. The good far outweighed the bad, and I even enjoyed the bad. **

**I'd love you all to check out the sequel once it's up if you're interested. It's tentative title is "The Talk: Max Style".**

**THANK YOU ALL!!!!!**


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